For the Love of Shinedown
by S. S. Wolfe
Summary: Anastasia Bass, younger sister of Shinedown bassist Eric Bass, steels her nerves after a long two-plus years of College. Things will heat up, secrets will be shared, and wills will be bent to the extreme for the next six months on a bus and in hotel rooms. Anastasia and Brent will become something stronger than a tabloid title, but will it last as long as the ink does on paper?
1. Introductions and Steeled Nerves

**So! This is my first band-fiction I have ever written... And it is, of course, based on Shinedown. I have changed ages in this story to make it seem more believable. So, here is a small list of ages for the guys and my character, Anastasia.**

 **Brent Smith: 31**

 **Barry Kerch: 32**

 **Zach Myers: 28**

 **Eric Bass: 31**

 **Anastasia Bass: 20**

 **Yes, there are some age differences here and I apologize, but there will be some editing of parts to fix any mistakes in timeline and errors. I figured I should post this to clear up any confusion. Come one, come all! Shinedown lovers, here is a story for you. Please read and review, as it makes my life feel a bit easier knowing that stories in this category aren't much sought after.**

The spring air wafted through my room, bringing with it the scent of flowers and blooming cherry blossoms. Petals danced and spun past the window, and I was mesmerized by the beauty. I was happy... truly happy to know that my favorite time of the year had finally come, and that I was done with college for a year long break. The confines of my classrooms were too much after two and a half years of the hell. I just wanted out.

I glanced to the poster beside my window, nostalgia and excitement flooding my veins in an odd mix. There stood my older brother and his band. Long, elaborate and sappy paragraphs were written on each of their bodies from the chest down, signatures and printed names lying in random spots around their messages. My heart clenched; I missed Eric... I missed having my Eric with me, helping me as best he could with learning the full extend of my trapset. And when the entire band came around, hogging the couches in my living room, it felt like my family was complete. Barry, with his long dreadlocks and sick skills (he loved to watch me play, praising and kindly criticizing where I needed it.) Zack, being goofy and trying to sneak up behind me to scare me (I always got him back by kicking his butt at Guitar Hero.) Eric, hugging me and getting into childish name-calling battles with stupid names like "fucktruck" and "Gothic toaster." And Brent... oh, Brent... with his willingness to let me vent to him and allow him to offer advice, and then his "until next time" kisses to the forehead...

I realized that my eyes had welled up with tears. But it was okay! It would all be perfect, because tonight, my mother and I would be going to see them. My pass already hung around my neck, dangling around the collar of Eric's old leather jacket. Sometimes, I imagined that it still smelled like him. It had been over a month since he had worn it, and my perfume and body wash had all but covered up his masculine scent. I didn't wear it often, trying to preserve it for when I really missed him. Sure, we texted and he would call when he could, but between practice, the band's _Insanity!_ workouts, and actual performances, there was little time to so much as sleep, let alone message me.

With a smile, I remembered the saved voicemail from last week. It was all four of them, and I still was beating myself up over missing the call, but finals had taken a toll on me and I slept for thirteen hours after the testing day. The guys were being weird, making odd noises like pterodactyls and peacocks. I would have guessed they were drunk, but Brent had been sober for nearly two years and I _know_ that dying-cat sound had been him. I would have known that voice anywhere. And then the sound of someone tackling Barry into the ground with a resounding _thump_ that had me in stitches. Eric was trying to talk, but he barely managed much of a sentence through the guys screwing around before he must've given up after a laughter attack. I missed them... The first time I had listened to the message, I nearly peed myself. Second time around was the same thing. But after the third, the nostalgia and longing had set in and I had started to cry, holding the phone and falling asleep in Eric's jacket.

It was very difficult sometimes, not seeing people that were truer family than my blood could be. I had actually contemplated asking to join them for the rest of their tour once I made the decision to take time away from school. I had all I needed to take care of myself. I had plenty of money left from working and in my savings. My tuition had all been funded from my many grants and scholarships, not to mention working two jobs, plus a dog-walking company I had been part of for nearly eight months that payed handsomely in our neighborhood, and rarely spending a cent. I didn't owe anything, and I still lived with our parents. I had no debts or responsibilities. I only had one plant, and it was ironically a cactus that required watering every couple months (which my parents did anyway.) I was all set, my determination and iron will willing. By all means, there was nothing holding me to my here. And the only reason I hadn't moved out yet was because I knew that it would've been a potential financial cancer while still going to school. I could afford to live comfortably for the most part, but not when my schooling came into play.

I started to debate asking or not, getting into what Eric called my "thinking mode" and trying to find out what was best. On one note, I had money. Not millions, but I was no idiot with finances. I had not spent much from my childhood savings either.

Flip side of things, would I be able to stand being around men for the next however many months on tour buses and hotel rooms?

Another good note: the inner analyst in my noted that it would be a good learning experience.

But... Oh, there were so many arguments to every side that it was going to be days before I stopped thinking. But it wouldn't hurt to ask, right?

It was decided. I was going to ask if I could join the rest of the tour. Whatever happened would be what was meant to, so I gave the thought to God. If they said yes, I would be touring with Shinedown.


	2. My Boys

"Anastasia, are you ready yet?" called Mom. She was obviously looking forward to seeing the guys again, though I was practically vibrating with giddiness on my bed. I glanced at the clock, and it was just barely three in the afternoon. We still had four-plus hours left of waiting time, and the nightclub they would be performing at was only a few miles away, if that. But leaving this early ensured time to see the guys before stage time. And that meant that they wouldn't be quite so tired beforehand. I knew from what Eric said that they would undoubtedly be stopping by the house for the night, which made me all the happier. And it also meant that if I couldn't work up the courage to ask about the tour now, I could wait until later or tomorrow. I found myself doing something I didn't do often enough: I was praying... praying that they would say "yes."

"I'm coming, Mom!" I called down the stairs. I grabbed my purse, checked for the essentials just once more, and with confirmation I ran out of my room and down the elegant staircase, though not without taking a peak down the hall to Eric's old room.

My blue jeans clung to my legs. My black riding boots came to a halt at my mid-calf. Eric's jacket was unzipped around my snow-white blouse. My long hair was held tightly in a high ponytail, my angled bangs hanging just perfectly over my eye to add some mystery. Though I hated the vanity of my own thoughts, I believed that I looked kind of sexy, and that was what I was going for. I wanted to be noticed tonight, though not in a scandalous or slutty way.

My mom emerged from the spacious living room and took in my appearance.

"Whoa, Ana," she gasped.

"I know, right?" I replied in a sarcastic whisper.

"You look beautiful, sweety," said my father, coming behind her.

"Thanks, Daddy," I laughed.

"You're wearing Eric's jacket again?" asked my mom. "Somehow, I knew it would be yours one day..."

"I miss him, Mom. And tonight is a night to prove that I am not just Eric Bass's kid sister." I held a tone of mock confidence, lifting my chin in haste and posing in a ridiculously war general-like way.

"Oh, Lord, Anastasia; you are _so_ much like him ,it scares me," commented my mother. My dad chuckled before kissing Mom. In a comfortable silence, Mom and I left the house and crawled into the SUV. We were fully prepared to bring the guys home with us if they needed to leave the buses somewhere for the night. I knew that it was going to be a long, sleepless one for me, but I couldn't wait.

Traffic was light, only a few business having a shift change at the time. And, pulling up to the club, we noted the lack of cars, though the buses were definitely there, surrounded by large semi-trailers and gated in. Security guards walked around like they owned the place, strutting like lions around their pride. I was always kind to them, knowing full well that their job was hell and a simple move could be the factor between life and death. The thought made my skin crawl. I had heard about some of the psychotic fans Shinedown had, though I prayed never to meet one face-to-face.

We pulled into the lot and parked over by the gates. The boys were nowhere to be seen, of course, but our large, black vehicle had obviously drawn attention. Mom and I stepped onto the concrete and I pulled out my phone, going straight to Eric's messages (I rarely deleted them.)

 _Will someone please call off the dogs?_ I asked.

I didn't get a reply. I was confused for a moment. I thought for sure he would say at least something, but there was no response. That was, until I heard what sounded like a herd of animals running from well behind the gates. I froze in fear. What was going on? Even security paused in their stead, staring in utter loss toward the sound.

"Uh, Mom..?" I barely managed to say before I saw Eric leap like a track star over the gate and crash into me. I gasped, clinging to his hoodie and trying to catch my breath. Their workouts had done wonders, judging by the brick wall that was now my brother. I coughed and sputtered, but I didn't loosen my grip. In fact, I clung more tightly when the shock disappeared.

"Ana, my Lord, it's good to see you," Eric spoke, his tone high with gratitude. It took me a second to realize that we weren't alone anymore. Upon glancing around, I saw confused security guards (some not, having already figured it out) and the other three. All of them were casually dressed, hoodies and sweats. Just like the regular people most didn't view them as. Brent was looming the closest, looking over the scene with a look of happiness and contentment in his beautiful eyes. He had been enveloped in an awkward hug by my short mother. Barry and Zach were next, the occasional "my boys are home" coming from that direction. They looked happy as well, loving the attention Mom was giving them. She no longer was "Mrs. Bass" or "Sharon." Now, she was Mom to all of them, and all of them were her boys. One big family.

"Eric, it's so good to see you," I admitted into his hoodie. His chin rested on top of my head.

"I missed you so damned much." He was holding me tightly, and I returned the favor full force for another minute or so before we pulled away.

I ran my fingers though his mohawk, like I had done when he had been sad or upset about something. It was soft and smooth, as it always was. He closed his eyes and leaned into my hand, practically purring. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, recoiling slightly from the prickly stubble.

"You need to _shave_ ," I commented playfully, feigning laughter and looking horror-struck.

"I haven't had time to shower yet. _That_ one-" he shot a thumb to Brent, "-was hogging the bathroom for the last hour." I looked at Brent, turning after hearing Eric's accusation and didn't see an ounce of shame. He looked handsome... his glasses intact and his hair not yet gelled to the side.

I walked the few feet to Brent and stood before him. He looked down at me with a look of admiration, and I smiled at him, a deep blush undoubtedly spreading down my body. He opened his arms, which I took without question. His hugs were always the best. He picked me up and spun me around, and I giggled like a little girl. His masculine scent wafted to me and I took a guilty inhale, trying to commit it to memory. I had a hopeless crush on him, and had for years.

I gripped his hoodie tightly, not wanting to let go until the sands of time ran out. He was warm, though he always had been. He was a perfect little space-heater in the winter, which the guys and me had found out one winter night. We had practically been on top of the poor guy, freezing our tails off while he stayed a toasty warm that was so unnatural it wasn't fair. He had gained a new respect for the guys that night.

"How's my girl?" he whispered into my hair. Those three words could make any girl's day in less than a second.

"Awesome now," I whispered back into his ear. "You?"

"Fantastic, Ana" he replied, holding me. I rested my forehead against the side of his neck, closing my eyes and relishing in the heat and comfort it brought. It had been a while since we had seen each other, and whenever I though that my school-girl crush had waned, something like this brought it back like a forest fire.


	3. Memories Past

Shortly after the heartfelt reunion, we were ushered into the gates by security. I walked next to Barry and Zach, feeling rather short. To me, they all seemed so tall. Eric had gotten Dad's height, and I had gotten Mom's. Sometimes, life was cruel, but being short had its perks.

"So, Ana..." began Zach, and I knew by the playful tone that whatever he was about to say would probably be embarrassing, "do you have a boyfriend yet? Break any hearts recently?" I rolled my eyes at him... Dork.

"No, I don't. Men are nothing but trouble," I commented, winking at Eric. He had glanced back at the question, apparently interested in the answer.

"Come on, darlin'; little spitfire like you and you don't have anyone on the fence?" asked Barry. "You were just in college!"

"College guys are out for one thing, and I am _not_ a toy," I mumbled. Never once had I even considered someone from school. Listing "Parties!" under interests on the school _Building Friendships_ forum was a giant turn-off. Sure, drinking was fun around the right people, but not when those people were begging for more alcohol simply to get into my pants.

"Good girl," I heard Brent mumble to himself, and I couldn't help but smile. Eric nodded his head in agreement.

There had been one guy two years ago that I had brought home, not knowing that the boys had all been hiding in my room to surprise me. Riley and I had made a date nearly two weeks in advance, making sure schedule-wise that he and I could work with it, and he had had a handle of whiskey in his car that we had cracked open. I wasn't even eighteen yet at the time, and trying to impress the older guy, of course, I had gotten far too drunk to say much more than "okay." So, with Riley in tow, we had made our way upstairs to my room as quietly as we could.

* * *

 ** _March, two years ago_**

The date had gone well, to say the least, and I was confident that there would be another one scheduled in the future. Riley had been a a gentleman as best as any college student could. He had bought dinner, though I had not had much to eat, and we talked about interests.

I had learned that he was into automotive mechanics, which was fitting. It had been a dream of his to own an old Chevelle within the next five years and he was saving for it. I had told him how I loved music and was learning to be like one of my brother's best friends (Barry, of course.) All in all, dinner had been short. Truthfully, I was ready to get home, as I had not paid much mind to what Riley had been saying. There was something about him that seemed off, but first dates are first dates and I wrote the gut feeling off, something Eric had always told me never to do.

In the car, I sat in the passenger side warming up. Riley had crawled in with a smile on his face before reaching into the back seat and pulling out a paper bag.

"What the..?" I asked him.

"You like whiskey?" he asked me.

"Er, yeah! Of course I do!" God, I was lying through my teeth. I had never had more than a beer, and beer wasn't the best either. I couldn't imagine what hard liquor was going to taste like.

Riley cracked the seal and handed the bottle to me. "First pull's all yours, baby."

I internally cringed at the pet name. I hated being called that by most people. One man in particular, though...

I steeled my resolve, not wanting to wimp out on him. I wanted to impress him, show him I was just as good as any ol' college girl. I took a short drink and had to fight the gag reflex it triggered. God, it tasted like acid... It was awful! So I handed it back to Riley, trying not to get sick, and block the rancid taste from my memory. Riley took two massive gulps, or so I had thought, and handed it back to me. Again, trying to impress, I took a champion's pull and nearly spit it out. And, being that I had never been drunk before, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Before I could register what was all going on, I was leading Riley up the stairs to my room, stumbling and fumbling up the stairs and even stubbing my big toe hard enough to make it bleed. That... _that_ had been painful, even drunk. We finally reached the landing of the stairs and I swayed to my door. My head spun terribly, and I was giggly and all weird-feeling. I opened the door, Riley right behind me, and fumbled for the light switch. What greeted me, I was _not_ expecting.

"Surprise!" was all I heard as the lights flipped on. I was met by three out of four of my boys, Barry and Eric standing while Brent occupied my bed.

There stood my brother in his basketball shorts and a cutoff, face twisted in confusion. Barry had his hair tied back and he looked rearing to go around. And Brent... Brent, who had been lying on my bed in a tight undershirt and sweats, was off of the bed in a second with a deadly look on his face.

I was a mess, and Riley...

"Holy shit! Shinedown!" he managed to fangirl before Barry pulled me away and Eric and Brent had Riley pinned against the wall.

Barry had never been a fighter. It didn't mean he didn't believe in it. As Eric and Brent...

"Are you okay, darlin'?" Barry asked, but I was staring in shock at Brent, who had Riley pinned against the wall by his neck. Eric was staring him down from what I could see. And I was shaking. I had somewhat sobered up, but my stomach was twisting uncomfortably.

"Who the fuck are _you_?" asked Eric, his voice scaring me.

"R-Riley," came my terrified date's voice.

"And what are you doing with, Ana, _Riley_?" he questioned.

"Nothing, I swear!" he defended, his voice cracking.

That was when Brent interjected. "You're right. Nothing. Get. Out."

I had never felt so terrified of one man in my life. Barry guided me to sit down on my bed, trying to talk me through my fear.

"They're not mad at you," he assured, his arm around me. I was still petrified at the thought of Brent and Eric coming for me next with voices raised. "You drunk?"

"I was," I muttered. There was a _slam_ before Riley peeled himself off of the floor and ran out of my house, never to be seen by me again. Now that he was gone, I knew that I was next. I kept my eyes at the ground, hoping to blend in somehow and to be left alone. Not happening...

I saw a pair of knees touch the ground before me, and I knew by the shorts that it was Eric. Barry was rubbing my back and I was fighting the discomfort in my stomach.

"Anastasia, look at me," said Eric in a calm manor. I knew that I was in it deep when he used my full name. I looked at him, a tear rolling down my cheek. I heard Brent on the phone, though I wondered who with at that hour.

"You been drinkin'?" he asked.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

"How much have you had?"

"Dunno. Not much. Just a couple pulls of whiskey..." I closed my eyes.

"He try anything with you?" Eric pressed. Barry tensed next to me and I heard a grunt from Brent. I assumed he was done, though he was the last person I wanted to make any eye contact with at this point. I didn't want to see the shame.

"No... not yet, anyways," I sighed. "Sorry, guys..."

"Shit happens, Ana." Eric scratched his head.

"Happy we were here, though," commented Barry. "This night would've ended much differently if we weren't."

I remained silent. I knew Brent was watching me. I could feel his blue eyes practically piercing my soul. I really hoped they weren't too angry, and couldn't tell if I wanted Brent to say something, or to stay silent. Another tear rolled silently down my cheek. I had not wanted the night to end like this. It was supposed to be a good night, and if I had just been honest and refused to drink... I would be down stairs with my boys.

"Ana, relax; we aren't mad at you," Eric assured. I wasn't convinced. I knew that there would be hell to pay later. I didn't respond. That was, until I felt my stomach shift and my mouth water. Once that happened, I flew off the bed, practically running over a stunned Eric and dove for the toilet. Once I got the lid open, it was all downhill from there. The acid of the whiskey burned my mouth.

It was only a couple seconds later before I felt my hair being tied into a quick ponytail. I lurched again, surprised at how little was left in my stomach after the first bout. Soothing circles were being rubbed on my back as tears streamed down my face. I flushed the toilet after spitting out the remnants of being ill. Surprisingly, I felt considerably better. I filled my mouth with mouthwash before looking in my mirror to see that it had been Brent to the rescue once again. I felt my face flush in shame. Why did he have to see me like this..?

I gargled and rinsed my mouth for over a minute before I spit out the burning, minty fluid. My mouth tasted much better, and I felt better, though the makings of a headache were steadily approaching. The light from the bedroom was too bright, and I cringed.

Brent took the cup I used for water from beside me, filled it full, and handed it to me.

"Water will fight the headache, sweetheart," he whispered. I eagerly chugged it down, though my stomach didn't take well to more fluids for the first few seconds. My stomach cramped and twisted, but soon it was over.

"Thank you," I mumbled, not making eye contact. Brent let it last for another few seconds before he walked close to me and stood between me and the doorway.

"Why did you drink?" he asked. Brent had been sober for some time now, and had dropped weight like a madman because of it. I knew he, of all people, would be disappointed.

I opened my mouth, but Brent interjected with, "The truth, Ana." I sighed.

"I didn't want Riley to think I wasn't... ya know, good enough." There it was.

"Sweety, getting wasted and stumbling inside with a guy you barely know is dangerous," he chastised mildly.

"Yeah, but I..." I trailed off. He was right. I had been a damned fool to think that there wasn't something going on when Riley had handed me the bottle.

"Anastasia, you're not even eighteen yet. You could've been hurt." He lifted my chin to meet his gaze and brought his lips to my forehead, keeping them there for a few seconds before pulling away. "There are billions of guys out there, Ana. And there is only one of you. Don't waste a precious thing for someone not worthy of the honor. You don't need some college guy trying to sleep with you on the first date, then having him run off with the next girl that comes his way. I don't want that for you. Eric doesn't, nobody does. You deserve so much better." He had a kind smile on his face, and I hugged him, resting my head on his chest. "And, between you and me, Eric was about to kill that little dickhead," chuckled Brent. I joined in the laughter, holding on tighter. I did not doubt his words for a second.


	4. A Revelation

We finally managed to work our way through the pack of semis and security guards, a few shooting confused and alarmed looks to each other and the guys. Eric walked up to a group of three, said something, and soon nearly every guard was back to minding their work. I felt no offense, knowing that, again, this was their job. Protect and serve: badge-less style.

Once we were inside the building, I sighed contentedly at the warm air blasting into the hall. Sure, it was spring and all, but the air from outside alone at this time of year was not enough sometimes, and I was grateful.

"What's on the agenda for the rest of the afternoon?" I asked to nobody in particular.

"Rehearsal," replied Zach with that boyish smile of his. He ruffled my hair. I was suddenly giddy with excitement. Watching and listening to what they practiced gave me a heads up for later, not to mention they didn't have to jump and fly around like they would on stage. Mom and Eric had stopped to discuss something quietly and I was curious, though I knew better to hand around and pry. Rather than sticking around to eavesdrop, I followed behind Barry into a locked, spacious room. There sat Barry's beautiful trapset, the bass head design sending a shiver up my spine. I was itching to get my hands on it, actually scratching at the crook of my arm like I was craving it.

When I saw Zach glance at what I was doing, I scratched the rest of my arm and shook it to cover up the weird move. I was never one for drugs, but _man_ that trapset was calling my name like one. I averted my eyes, though. I wasn't going to touch the heads. I knew they replaced them before each show for safety and performance purposes, meaning that those were still from the last show and could easily break or crack if I made a wrong move. Snare heads always had their own weak spots, and I was great at finding them... I had busted a few snare heads and two or three tom heads in the past and was not looking to add another to the "OH, SHIT!" graveyard. At least, not tonight. But, oddly enough, Brent walked straight to it and rested his head on one of the high toms with a _thump_. I chuckled to myself.

"Barry, you sing..." he mumbled into the head, and the muffled, vibrating sounds that came from it had me fighting to keep my laughter contained. Zach laughed at the antic and Barry shook his head.

"If I sang, Ana here would run... screaming," Barry commented.

"Oh, you can'y be _that_ bad," I tried to assure him, but Brent lifted his head and all three turned to me with deadly-serious expressions, nodded in sync. That was when I lost it and clutched my aching belly, trying not to fall on the floor. Maybe Barry _was_ that bad after all. I had always thought that Eric had been making fun of the drummer. Guess not...

Eric came in the room and looked at me with a confused expression.

"Why is she dying?" he asked, looking pointedly at Brent.

"Brent asked me to sing. Didn't believe that I sound like a dying cow," Barry laughed.

"I told you I wasn't lying," Eric whispered loudly to me. Then he got a "light bulb" look on his face. "But Ana can."

I stopped laughing immediately, turning to Eric and begging him to not say anything else.

"So, where's Mom?" I asked nervously, trying to change the subject as quickly as I could, but to no avail.

"You can sing?" asked Brent. Eric looked at me, waiting for the answer while the other three remained focused on me with interest. I looked around at them in defense before dropping my head in defeat. _Shit_.

"Er, kinda..." I mumbled, not lifting my head.

"The last time I was home, I had to listen to you sing half of _Amaryllis_ in the shower. And I didn't break down the door to tell you to stop," Eric deadpanned, and I felt the goosebumps on my arms. I knew I was blushing like mad, but I couldn't help it. _Amaryllis_ was an amazing album that, even as Eric's sister, had me begging for more. Truthfully, yes, I could sing. I could sing pretty well, not to toot my own horn. I had been singing since I could talk, according to Eric and my mother, even if it was just nonsense or singing about what I was doing at the time. Now, I could memorize music "through repetition," which was what my high school band teacher had called it. But anyone could, right..?

"What was your favorite song from the album?" asked Brent, curious.

It was no question, especially when Eric and I said, " _Through the Ghost_ ," in unison. I had practically ruined my CD in my car, playing it over and over and over until I memorized every tiny detail of the song. Eric had even showed me how to play it on his acoustic guitar a few times, which was now kept hidden in my closet at home with Zach's original sheet music (littered in doodles and notes,) hidden in its case. To this day, he still wondered where it had gotten to, according to Eric.

"You know every piece to that song, Ana," Eric pressed, using his "puppy-dog" face on me.

"Eric John Bass, that's fighting dirty," I scolded, and he smiled triumphantly. Eric: one. Me: zilch. I was _so_ going to get him back for this later. And, like a child, he stuck his tongue out at me for a brief second before winking.

"If you'd feel more comfortable, I could sing with you, Ana," offered Brent, rising from the seat of the trapset and walking over to me. I mildly wondered how our voices would sound together, and had to take the opportunity. If anything, my curiosity would be enough to keep from chickening out.

After a steadying breath, I nodded my head. Eric sat on a chair a few feet away, where his practice bass sat on a stand. Barry walked to his trapset, and Zach took up post a few feet from Eric. I... just kinda stood there, looking like an idiot until Brent rested a hand on my shoulder.

"It'll be fine," Brent reassured. I sighed and swallowed my nervousness. It was then that Zach started playing the opening chords, caressing each string with practiced ease. Eric began to fiddle with his chords, and Barry rolled his ground tom. Just a few more measures... and...

 _Speak of the Devil, look who just walked into the room._

 _The guilted and faded notion of someone I once knew_

My heart was beating like a drum once I began, but it started to steady a bit when my confidence grew.

 _All the perfect moments are wrong._

 _All the precious pieces are gone._

Brent began the sing with me.

 _Everything that mattered is just a city of dust,_

 _Covering both of us._

 _Did you hide yourself away?_

I added more a little more power to my voice, raising the volume.

 _I can't see you anymore._

 _Did you eclipse another day?_

 _I used to wake up to the color of your soul._

I felt so happy... so free, singing my heart out with Brent. He had wrapped his arm around my shoulders, his hand gripping the other side.

 _Did you hide yourself away?_

 _Are you leaving through the ghost?_

 _Did you fin'ly find a place above the shadows so the world will never know..._

 _The world will never know you like I do._

It was just me again for a bit.

 _So many silent sorrows you'll-_

Brent's voice came in at the perfect time, the way it had in the actual recording.

 _-never hear from again._

Goosebumps rose and I shivered just slightly. Wow, he sounded so amazing.

 _And now that you've lost tomorrow,_

 _Is yesterday still a friend?_

 _All the bridges we built were burned._

 _Not a single lesson was learned._

 _Everything that mattered is just a city of dust,_

 _Covering both of us!_

I glanced over to Eric, who had a proud, giant smile on his face, though he kept his focus on his bass. I didn't dare look at Brent, because I knew that if I saw whatever his expression was, I would completely blow this.

 _Did you hide yourself away?_

 _I can't see you anymore..._

 _Did you eclipse another day?_

 _I used to wake up to the color of your soul._

 _Did you hide yourself away?_

 _Are you leaving through the ghost?_

 _Did you fin'ly find a place above the shadows so the world will never know..._

 _The world will never know you like I do._

The band started to build, Barry adding his symbol to the mix. Zach played his chords with expertise, and I could practically feel Eric's bass in my chest as he played.

 _Like I still do..._

My heart began to race again with anticipation, the pace building with the sound of the band. I finally looked to Brent, who was staring at me with a mixture of joy and pride, though there was something hidden there that I couldn't quite decipher. He pulled me a little closer to his side. And then, it was our cue, voices harmonizing powerfully.

 _Did you hide yourself away?_

 _I can't see you anymore._

 _Did you eclipse another day?_

 _I used to wake up to the color of your soul (of your soul.)_

I grinned wide at Brent's reverberation.

 _Did you hide yourself away?_

 _Are you leaving though the ghost?_

 _Did you fin'ly find a place (a place!) above the shadows so the world will never know (never know...)_

 _The world will never know you..?_

I took a deep breath, focusing hard on trying to relax my heart. I had felt so empowered during the song, hearing the undertones our voices had created and knowing that I had been on key for at least most of the song. Granted, I had sung the song until I was gasping for air before, practicing repeatedly until I could match Brent's voice as best as I could, though an octave or two higher, of course.

Brent released me and began to clap, joined by the other three and I felt a deep blush flush my cheeks. Talk about embarrassing. I even heard a wolf-whistle behind me and I turned to face the three. They all bore giant smiles, and Eric wore an "I told you so!" look plastered to his face. Barry had obviously been the one to whistle, as he was looking around in the most unnatural "act natural" way, though he still clapped. Zach looked completely blown away, to say the least. And lastly...

I looked up at Brent. He was looking at me with such admiration that it made me nervous all over again. This was his song... and yet, nobody knew yet what the song's meaning was. Or, at least I didn't, though I had a sneaking suspicion Eric had an inkling.

Eric was the first to speak up. "Told 'ya Ana could sing."

"Yeah; holy shit," Zach replied. I shrank down internally, hiding. I was always shy when it came to praise.

"Ana, you were incredible," spoke Barry, rising from his trapset. "But regardless if she was amazing or not..." He ruffled my hair, screwing up what I had fixed from Zach, "She belongs to the _Dark Side_." He handed me one of his sticks and I looked at it, trying to figure out exactly what had happened to the other.

"Uh, Barry?" I mumbled.

"Yes, darlin'?" he replied, still looking triumphant.

"Please tell me the other stick isn't hiding in _your Dark Side_ ," I replied in the most serious tone I could manage. He suddenly looked as if he had been clubbed over the head, and I burst out laughing. It was a few seconds before all of us were nearly on the ground, Barry included. I had really missed these times, and I was looking forward to having my boys home tonight.


	5. A Twist

After we had peeled ourselves off the floor, my stomach trying to kill me, we retired to the two couches and one of the chairs. Zach and Brent had gone to one of the couches, and Barry to a chair. It left me with Eric on the other couch.

Barry had struck up conversation with the other two, capturing their attention full on, and it gave me time to talk to my brother.

"You really did sound great, Ana," Eric commented, clasping a hand on my thigh. "Brent was pretty surprised."

I smiled at his words. "Thanks... I've always been so nervous to sing; don't know why... but with you back home, it was never an issue." I laughed. "We could probably still sing .45 like we used to."

"I could never get you off of that song, even when you were, like, ten," mumbled Eric.

"Yeah... Brent would always ask these question during his concerts... like, 'Who has been with Shinedown since day one?' ya know? And... shit, that was in 2003. Now, ten-plus years later, I can still raise my hand or a cheer because I have been. Before they became popular," I replied with a hint of nostalgia. It was awesome, that even at eight, I could say that I had been with them. "Never thought that in my wildest dreams I would get to know them... Even Dad thought it was a ludicrous idea to hope..."

"And look at all of us now," Eric laughed.

"Yeah, now Shinedown pops into my house for family dinners, Barry has taught me more about my trapset, and you are still my favorite pain in the ass."

Eric squeezed my leg and I jumped. So I poked him in the side and we chuckled together. He laid down, his head on my lap, and I ran my fingers though his hair. Time had flown, and I hadn't really taken the time to appreciate what I had. I missed being able to do this. Shinedown was amazing, don't get me wrong, but my brother was still just that. He was my blood. He understood things... helped me through things that nobody else could. He was my brother, and my best friend. How many siblings could say that about their older brother, eh?

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, still stroking Eric's hair. He was practically purring, and I would give it about five minutes before he dozed off. That was fine. We still had a couple hours left before they had to go on. Some other band was opening for them anyways, and it gave us about another hour after them. I was in heaven. I listened to the sounds of Zach and Barry ganging up playfully on Brent, and it brought me back to the Enemies music video. Admittedly, I had laughed like a hyena at the video. Eric fighting Brent... Lord, that was hilarious. But Eric had truly felt bad about injuring Brent with that coffee pot.

"Ana," Eric mumbled.

"Yes, Eric?" I replied.

"Mom and I had a conversation about you... and I don't know how to bring this up, but here goes..."

"Oh, shit," I sighed, still keeping my eyes closed. Probably something to do with school or whatever. Sometimes, Eric acted more like a father than a brother...

"So, you're taking some time off of school, right?"

I was right! "Yeah?"

"Is there anything else that would need your attention over the next few months?"

My ears perked at that. What was he saying? My heart began to thrum in my chest.

"Er, why..?"

"I have already discussed this with Brent; repeatedly, actually... even Barry and Zach seem pretty excited to have you... Brent said yes right away, thinking it would be a good idea..."

"Eric, what are you asking?" I asked, impatient now.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, looking into mine.

"Do you think you would be able to last the next five or so months with four guys and a set crew?" he finally asked. I was speechless. I just stared at him, unable to form any sentences or complete thoughts...

"I... er... um... uh..." I couldn't get the words out. So, rather than trying to speak, I just nodded my head, almost worried about whiplash for half a second.

"Yes?" Eric asked.

"Yes!" I parroted. We had captured the attention of the other three, and Brent looked concerned for Eric's well-being. He had stood up, looking at the two of us.

"What's going on?" he asked, sounding confused.

"I asked her," replied Eric, sitting up. I was vibrating.

"And..?"

I was out of my spot in less than a second before I jumped into Brent's arms and held onto him like a sloth to a tree. He wrapped his arms securely around my waist, holding me up with no apparent trouble.

"Thank you so much," I whispered into his ear. I could've kissed him at that point... and I really wanted to. But I settled with a kiss to his cheek.

"So, she said yes?" came Zach's voice from not too far. In fact, he was, like, right below me...

Damn right, I had said yes. Brent set me down carefully, and I suddenly missed the warmth. Man, it had already been an eventful day...

Suddenly, my phone went off in my pocket, and so did Brent's. Then it happened again, to both of us. And one more time...

"What the hell?" I mumbled, reaching for my phone. It went off again, and I glanced at the screen. A twitter notification?

"Oh, my..." I unlocked my phone and went straight to twitter. Right on my feed was a picture Brent and me in the same position we had been only seconds before, me kissing his cheek. I glanced to see who posted the picture, which had already gotten fifty likes and seventeen retweets in just the time span of a minute. And it had been posted by... I glanced at the first comment that was below the photo...

"Congrats, Brent!" it read.

I looked over to my brother, who was standing with a wolfish grin plastered to his face.

"Oh Eric!" I called. Brent looked over to my brother, and Barry could hardly contain his laughter.

"Yes, Ana?" he replied calmly. I started to walk up to him slowly, and he started moving toward the door.

"I don't think you thought one thing through..." I told him, switching sides so I could move toward the door and send him the other way.

"And what was that?"

"You didn't put anything more than 'Awww!' in the caption..." I cleared my throat. "Soon, everyone with a twitter in your arriving fan section is gonna think that Brent and I are together..."

His face switched from smug to "oh, shit" in half a second. Brent just stood there, dumbfounded. And then, Brent shook his head.

"If people think we are together, let them. It's all just speculation. We don't have to comment," Brent said, walking up to Eric and me and slinging an arm over my shoulders. Eric got this... look on his face that I couldn't figure out. Was he happy..? Or...

"Ya know, we could have some fun with this," came Zach's voice. I looked to him and he had a devious little grin. Brent looked at him too, and we had similar expressions. What kind of plan did the jokester have up his sleeve now?

"How?" Eric asked.

"We all have psychotic fans. Good way to keep them back is to let the world know we are taken, right?" I looked at him with my mouth agape.

"Yeah, so what are you saying?" Brent asked. I was sure he knew the answer, but I wanted the same clarification.

Barry stood then. "We aren't going to use Ana as a way to get rid of the psychos. Come on, you idiot... this could end really badly."

I chuckled. Maybe this _could_ be fun... "Hey, I don't care! Why not just have a little fun; come on, who could it hurt?"

"Ana, making an official announcement opens you up for a lot of criticism. Maybe you should think about this..." Brent started, looking down at me. I didn't need more than a second to have my answer. Hell yeah, I would go through with this... I wanted to be with Brent so badly, it hurt. But he was sending a mixed signal... like, he did want to go through with it, but at the same time he didn't...

"I'm fine with it. I mean, come on... I look older anyways. I don't get ID'ed going into bars. People always assume I am in my mid or late twenties. My followers on twitter all think I am Zach's age." I pointed at the blonde.

"Hey! I am _not_ that old!" protested the youngest band member.

I ignored him. "And maybe it could be a benefit to all of you. Eric, you're married... Barry, so are you. Zach, you're engaged. The only free-range one of you left is Brent, and I am sorry, man, but you do have some pretty psychotic women on your coattails."

"True..." replied Eric. Brent nodded his head, though he still seemed a little nervous about this. Honestly, so was I. But I wasn't about to look this horse in the mouth. Maybe it was with selfish intentions, but I wanted this.

"Eric, are you going to be okay with me 'dating' your little sister?" Brent asked, using finger-quotes around "dating."

He stood there and though hard for a minute. Eric was a very intelligent man, and he generally thought through all possible outcomes before most decisions. It was an awkward minute or two with all of us watching him. I needed this answer as much as Brent did.

"I will just say one thing, Brent," came Eric's voice, deadly deep with seriousness. He looked Brent in the eye and I felt his arm tense. "Whatever this is, real or fake, if she gets hurt... and I mean, at all, I will hurt you. Badly."

"Easy there, Dad," I said to him, chesting up a bit in Brent's defense. "Brent, nobody has asked your opinion yet. This hair-brained idea is. like, two minutes old. Are _you_ okay with this?"

He took some time to think about it. This could end in only one of two ways. Either it would work, or it wouldn't and someone was going to get hurt. And I think the latter was what he seemed so worried about, though it didn't seem for his own sake, despite Eric's threat. And we knew that Eric could fight. We both could, growing up in a military household.

"The moment I sense that you are going to get hurt, Ana, it has to be done with. You are all right; we do have psychotic fans with fantasy ideals, and they could damn well go after either one of us." He seemed genuinely worried. I hugged him from the side tightly.

"Don't worry, Brent..." I assured. "It's just for the tour. We can find out something else later in the year. Looks like I will be with you guys anyways, and now I can actually be of some use this time."

All four looked at me and I regretted my words.

"Er, um, what I meant to say was... er... _Anyways!_ Are we doing this or what?" I managed before someone could say something. I looked at Brent and he looked down at me. He still seemed really concerned, but I kissed his cheek. He sighed, tightened his grip on me, and looked up.

"Yes."

"Let's get a picture of the happy couple, eh?" I heard Zach say, trying to lighten the mood. Barry and Eric were discussing what I assumed was this whole game plan. I knew from the looks on their faces that the two elder band members were concerned. Each of the band members was intelligent, but those two always seemed to get into the deepest conversations. Eric always could read people as well as our father could, and I found myself wondering if he truly knew how I felt about the lead singer. I zoned out on the pair, wishing I was privy to what was being said, but I felt Brent lean his head down.

"Are you sure you are okay with this, Ana?" he asked, pressing his forehead to mine. We looked into each other's eyes, pools of sapphire and jade meeting.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "Yes, Brent... I am..." He brought his warm, calloused hand up to caress my cheek...

Zach's phone went off with a flash, and it was at that point that the world of Shinedown would believe Brent and I were together.


End file.
